Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
Oh, poor me,
I had a girl break my heart.
Morale of the story,
Addicted from the start.
I'm not broken,
I tattooed the cracks.
Purposely hoping,
For my drug back.
Texting, delaying,
With sad face emojis.
Now they're all saying,
God, you're emo, jeez.
I cry, cut, and so on.
Mentally disturbed.
Cry again and throw on,
A slowed reverb.
Paul Anka, Juice Wrld.
Not trying to forget,
That once a girl,
Lifted me from the ****.
I was so deep, stuck in,
A lanky creep, *******,
A pretty *****, nothing,
I wanted more, something,
Got to me.
Affection,
******.
Perplexing,
Ideology.
Flexing,
Not ******,
But her ****** economy.
Honestly,
All she was, was a drug.
No understanding or acceptance.
I wanted a hug,
And so much more.
She wanted a beating.
It makes more sense,
Why she went out cheating.
**** lust and ***,
And pornographic scenes.
Nah, just **** my ex,
I'll see you in my dreams.
Sketcher
Written by
Sketcher  18/M/Blaine, Washington
(18/M/Blaine, Washington)   
74
   jdmaraccini
Please log in to view and add comments on poems